11. Emi
Wolf was a blur of chestnut hair and dark linen. He was so fast, I knew nothing beyond his beckoning hand—the gesture to begin again—before I flew off my feet. This time, I’d managed to take a step away from the couch, so my back slammed to the floor with only the rug to cushion me. My vision blackened with the rush of air leaving my lungs as a Wolf-shaped weight bore down on me.
My eyes flew open and met his. Silver. Close. So close.
My lungs struggled to fill again, and for once I cared more about what I’d done wrong than about fleeing from the intimacy of him. I was too frustrated to be uncomfortable. But he was already rolling off me, dancing to his feet like nothing bothered him.
“That was better.” He offered a hand.
I ignored it. “How…was that better?” I gasped. I would stay seated right here a little longer, thank you very much.
“You fell better this time. You tucked your chin and got your arms out from your body.”
Somehow, learning how to fall wasn’t what I’d had in mind when Wolf made his proposal. Yet that’s what I’d done…for three days now. “Gee, as long as I don’t hurt myself falling down when a monster attacks me, I’m sure I’ll enjoy getting eaten.”
“Probably depends on the monster in question.” Wolf flashed his toothy grin and winked. When I growled at him, he only offered me his hand again. “With your arms out, you’ll be able to roll away and jump up faster.”
“When do I learn to attack?” So far, it was just falling, rolling, ducking, and being generally pathetic. My entire body was a bruise.
“Patience, witchling. It’s just like magic. You have to build a foundation, learn the basics before you can move on to the more advanced stuff.”
I remembered some of his advanced moves. All those hard lines of him could melt into fluid movement, whether he was dropping to dash sideways or leaping the chair by the window or diving in a forward roll across the rug. I kept noticing way too much.
Danger was written like poetry through every line of his body. He was as beautiful as he was deadly, and I needed space. I needed to clear my head from the haze of Wolf and the wrongness of finding him anything other than evil.
His hand closed over mine, giving me no choice about standing up as he hauled me into him. This time the discomfort hit me with a flood of heat.
I tore my hand from his. “Enough. I need a break.”
“You just had a break.” He nodded to the floor as if I’d been napping.
“I just—I need a minute.” I sank to the couch as Wolf fell silent, realizing I wasn’t in the mood for teasing.
This whole thing was pointless. Nothing about me repeatedly ducking as he swung couch cushions at me and encouraged me to “weave” and “stay light” was getting me any closer to being able to leave this place or have my revenge. Grandma’s absence sat like a choker around my neck, and Wolf’s overwhelming presence filled every facet of my days.
All that bright anger that had fueled my early enthusiasm for this arrangement between us had faded to a dull ache, and now I felt empty.
The worst part was Wolf. So far, I’d kept my questions to things I thought would help me fight him, or gain some advantage. His answers had been straightforward and hadn’t helped me at all. But they’d shown me more of him.
There was something in the way he spoke of his family—a softening around his mouth and a light to his eyes—that rattled the hole inside of me. He genuinely cared about them the way family was supposed to. It called to me and hurt me at the same time, seeing what I craved and didn’t have.
In the quiet times when we shared meals, I found myself thinking of those people. I couldn’t forgive him for taking my family from me, but I imagined how hard it must be to see his own people suffering and thinking he could stop it, but failing.
“Can I ask you something?”
I expected a teasing reply, but all he said was, “Of course,” as he folded his body onto the other end of the couch.
“What happened the other day, after the monster attacked me? When you were on top of me, I could have sworn your eyes were different. I even thought your teeth were bigger.”
He kept his gaze on me, but I could tell his thoughts traveled far away for several heartbeats.
“You said you’d answer my questions truthfully, Wolf.”
“I always will. But you already know I’m a monster, so what else is there to say?”
“That’s not much of an answer.”
He shrugged. “It’s all the answer I have.”
“Then tell me this. What did you mean when you said that beast used to be a man?”
“Exactly what I said. His name is Fenrir, and he was like a brother to me. We lost him to the Mist an annum ago. Last we knew, he was hunting up at the Countridge border of the forest.” He went quiet while I waited for him to continue. “We tried to save him after his brother was killed three annums back. But that sort of loss and bitterness feeds the curse. It’s always trying to draw us down to the worst of ourselves. It was only a matter of time.”
“Were they both part of your enclave?” I asked, my heart twinging at his tale of loss.
He nodded.
“But then, you lost him too, right? You said he was like a brother.”
“They were actual brothers, by blood. We think they may even have been twins given how similar they looked, although it’s impossible to know anything for sure without our memories. You should have seen them, though. Blond, tall, strong. Two of our fiercest protectors. We figured they must have been from Havannsar originally where the fenriswulf is native. Somehow they had the misfortune to end up here of all places.
“After his brother was killed, Fenrir was never the same. He tried to hold on—I know he did—but it’s a constant pull. We’re all walking the edge of sanity here, so that unbalance of losing his twin…”
Chills crawled over my skin. I didn’t want to feel sympathy for the hideous creature that had attacked me. I didn’t want to feel anything other than disgust for Wolf, either, after what he’d done.
Wolf made me want to throw things at his head and punch walls, and maybe push him up against a wall and… Nope. Not that. He made me crazy, not gooey and soft and like I wanted to ease his pain. Ugh. I hated him.
But there was more going on in Aglonbriar than I’d realized.
Between training times, Wolf had me helping him search the house. He claimed I’d be the best one to notice if something seemed out of the ordinary, and I had to admit there’d been a few odd things, but saying we were looking for evidence of witchcraft still sounded insane. Nothing we’d turned up led me to change my mind about that, yet I was increasingly curious.
“What about the witches? Why do you know so much about gemstone witches?”
His eyebrow cocked at the abrupt change of subject. “The enclave. A witch built it for me.”
“Really?”
“Before you go thinking she did it out of kindness, it was out of guilt. She killed my best friend.”
That was a punch to my gut. Every time I thought I was starting to know Wolf’s motivations, he surprised me again.
“A witch killed your best friend?”
“Technically, her brother did. Lopped Leo’s head off with a sword while all I could do was watch from the trees. It was her fault though. She got too close to the forest’s edge. He was already losing control, couldn’t resist easy prey.” His voice had hardened as soon as the conversation turned to witches.
I didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry seemed inadequate, plus I owed this man nothing.
“Break’s over, witchling.” Wolf stood with his hand out to pull me up again. “Time to work.”
I scowled, but let him help me up. He looked surprised when I willingly took his hand. I didn’t realize it was the first time I’d accepted his gesture until my hand was already clasped in his. Warm callouses rubbed the outside of my thumb, leaving it tingling when he let go.
“Right. Feet apart. Hands up to block your face.”
“Not the couch cushion again,” I said as he raised it to swing at me. I’d been beaten senseless by that couch over the past few days, and I now hated it even more when I had to sleep on it at night. Because yes, he kept besting me there too, stealing the bedroom before I could claim it.
Wolf’s lips pursed, then he threw the cushion down again. “Sure. How about you hit me, then?”
He laughed when my eyes flew wide. “You’re going to let me hit you?”
“Of course not. But I’ll let you try, and maybe you can wear out some of this frustrated energy that has you wound so tight.”
“You’d be frustrated too if you were trapped with such a boar-headed housemate.”
“Who says I’m not?”
I aimed my fist at his nose as hard and fast as I could. The annoying clod caught it without so much as flinching and used my own momentum to pull me into his hard chest. My fist was pinned between us, trapped against the heat of his body over his heart. I could feel it thudding away, racing as fast as mine.
“Do you know where you went wrong?” he asked.
“I neglected to grab the knife before attacking you,” I suggested archly.
His lips twitched, so close to me they were in line with my eyes. All he had to do was tilt his head down and they’d meet mine. I jolted backward. Where in the blue skies had that thought come from?
“I was going to say you dropped your other hand. Plus it was incredibly obvious what you were going to do.”
I huffed. “Yes, apparently everything about me is obvious, and you know everything, and I’m completely predictable. This is hopeless.”
“I wouldn’t say that. You surprise me constantly.”
“I—I do?”
“Mmhmm.” He was looking at me strangely, with that same softness around his mouth that I’d only seen when he talked about his people.
But that was crazy. I was merely caught up in the heady feeling of having someone’s attention on me for days on end. It had nothing to do with Wolf in particular, or the way he always watched me like I was someone powerful and worthy of respect. I was imagining things that weren’t there. Grief. Stress. That had to be it.
“Stop frowning and fix this stance.” Bringing his other hand to my right hip, Wolf pushed it back so my body was at an angle to his. Then he raised the fist he still held so that it was between our faces. I inhaled sharply, unaware how we’d been staring unbroken until that instant.
Skies of blue, I needed to get a grip. If there were anyone I was going to let myself dream would care about me, it most certainly was not going to be him. I needed to focus on the problem in front of me so I could escape this place and Wolf’s strange influence.
“You’re left-handed. So keep this hand in front of your face, left leg ahead of your right and hips angled. Drive the punch off your back leg.” He always made adjustments for me, always remembered my dominant hand since that first time I tried to stab him.
“You’re still scowling, witchling.”
I didn’t know what to do with all these clouded thoughts. “I’m just channeling my anger so I can use it.”
“Nope. Don’t fight angry. That’s a good way to die.” He said it like I had any other choice when that ember burned bright in my chest. Like his words and being in his space didn’t set me on fire with it. “Take a deep breath in, and out,” he coached. “Forget your feelings about me and settle your mind, or you’ll never be able to fight me. You need focus for that, not rage.”
But I couldn’t focus. How could I when my head hurt and my chest ached, and they felt like they were pulling me in opposite directions? I was tearing apart. Sympathy one heartbeat, fury the next. Hot anger, then cool intrigue. I didn’t know whether to kill him or kiss him. And how could I want both?
I couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t! I can never forget what you’ve done. Don’t you think I want to forget all about you? How you feel against me? How you smell? The way your hair curls at your temples when you sweat? The precise shade of silver your eyes turn in the firelight?” I hated him for every one of the confessions that tumbled out of me. I hated the way it made my body burn with hot flames, and the way I wanted to walk away but I couldn’t.
I hated him as I threw myself into another attack, and when he deflected it with no more acknowledgment than a cautiously offered tip for where to put my feet, I hated him even more because I was starting to think I didn’t hate him nearly enough.